Snow Covered Dreams
by Psy.Ops
Summary: First Song Fic. PG-13 for violence. I really hope you like this. ^_^


Snow Covered Dreams  
  
by: Psy.Ops  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing! Nothing I say! *laughs maniacally*  
  
___________________________________  
  
A lonely boy sighed and pulled his black bucket hat further over his eyes. He turned the volume up on his cd player, blasting Linkin Parks' My December.  
  
This is my December  
  
This is my time of the year  
  
This is my December  
  
This is all so clear  
  
This is my December  
  
This is my snow covered home  
  
This is my December  
  
This is me alone  
  
He sighed and wished that he wasn't alone. Everything about his life was about being alone. No one wanted him and no one loved him. People thought that he was a freak because a birth defect. Everyone is different, but still the same inside.  
  
He stood up and walked to the bus stop and hopped the one that would take him the furthest he could get from Idaho and his problems. He sat heavily in a seat in the rear and pulled his backpack closer to him. It had his most treasured possessions inside. Cds upon cds. Only his current favorites, though. All the others were piled in his two suitcases in the side compartment.   
  
He set the cd player to repeat and sank further into the plush chair. Only a few other people hobbled aboard before the doors whooshed closed. The diesel engine roared to life and groggily took off from the depot. Soon the soft vibrations from the engine lulled him to sleep.  
  
And I  
  
Just wish that I didn't feel  
  
Like there was something I missed  
  
And I  
  
Take back all the things I said  
  
To make you feel like that  
  
And I  
  
Just wish that I didn't feel  
  
Like there was something I missed  
  
And I  
  
Take back all the things that I said to you  
  
He woke up to someone poking him. A little girl stared at him and then smiled when she saw him lifted his head.  
  
"Hi! I'm Kelly. What's your name?"  
  
"Snow."  
  
"That's a funny name. What kind of name is that?" she asked tilting her head to the side.  
  
Snow blinked sleepily. "I don't know. It's just my name, kid. Now can I go back to sleep?"  
  
Before the girl could say anything, a dumpy housewife came and grabbed the little girl. "Sorry."  
  
He shrugged and lay his head back on the seat. He missed being called by his name, but he knew that people would start to talk. He just wanted to start brand new. Nothing could be any worse than to have that happen to him again.  
  
TWO WEEKS AGO  
  
"Freak!"  
  
"Monster!"  
  
Rocks flew at him from all sides. He tried to dodge as many as possible, but still they came. A large one hit him in the ribs. Snow grunted and flinched as smaller ones pelted his bent frame. Someone threw an even larger one at his head.   
  
They were trying to hurt him! He made a grab for his hat and felt the rock slice into his temple. He yelped in pain and fell to his knees. They were laughing and making fun of him and his deformity. Never in his life had he hated as much as he hated right then.   
  
Snow came to his feet slowly and stared at the laughing faces of the senior boys that had chased him down to the river. He found the leader, the biggest jock, the star football player. Snow stared into his eyes.  
  
"Oh, look! The little man's gonna cry!" he yelled out to the group. "What's the matter, elf boy? Got a boo-boo?"  
  
Snow just stared at him, his eyes slowly changing, glowing blood red. His skin getting darker, turning pitch black. His white hair getting longer. His ears lengthening and becoming even more pointed than what they were.  
  
"You picked the wrong 'boy' to mess with today, Jones," Snow had ground out, rage seething through him.  
  
Jones and the others had stopped laughing when the freak had started to change.  
  
"Jesus! He's an ELF!" one boy cried, sprawled, having tripped over his feet to back away.  
  
"When was your first clue, Larry?" Jones smarted off to his friend.  
  
Snow was still staring at Jones. The wind started to pick up and leaves danced around his body. A purple glow started to emanate from his hands and slowly engulfed his body. Snow started to smirk, then grin. Finally he laughed and threw a hand out to some golf-ball sized rocks near him. The rocks flew into the air and hovered there.  
  
Jones and the others couldn't move. Terror had frozen them in place. They had never seen anything like this, except, of course, on T.V. and in the movies.  
  
"Feel my pain, fellas. Feel the sting of rocks slicing into the skin and the burning," Snow said quietly, throwing the rocks in all directions.   
  
Jones screamed as the sharp-edged rocks cut into his face and bare arms. There were more and more screams as more rocks joined their brothers. Jones and his crew feared for their lives. Never before, when they had picked on the freaky looking black kid, had he ever turned on them. All he had ever done was hunch his shoulders, duck his head, and hurry as fast as he could away from them.  
  
Snow finally let go of his hate and anger. He shook his head and looked at the whimpering boys. He gulped in some refreshing air and shivered. Had he really lost control again? He knew he had to move on, to leave, before they sent the authorities after him again.  
  
"I gave you plenty of chances to leave me alone, Jones. You are the one to blame for the pain and anguish that you have brought upon your friends," Snow told the cringing and bleedin football player. "Never again poke fun at the new kid because of what he looks like or talks like. You never know if you have come across another of my kind."  
  
With that, Snow looked around him blankly. What happened? He stared at Jones and paled. Never had he lost so much of his control over his powers like that! He grabbed his hat and hightailed it back to his foster parent's. He had waited for the phone calls to start but they never came. He left that night and never looked back.   
  
PRESENT  
  
And I'd give it all away  
  
Just to have somewhere to go to  
  
Give it all away  
  
To have someone to come home to  
  
Snow yawned and blinked the sleep from his eyes. His money had finally ran out. He was stuck here, for better or worse. He read the bus depot's welcome sign. Bayville, New York. Wonderful.  
  
He wandered over to the desk clerk and asked her if he could leave his luggage there until he could find a place to stay. She gave him a key and pointed to a locker, shaking her head when he would have given her the money for it.   
  
"I've been where you are, son."  
  
He smiled his thanks and slung his backpack over his shoulder and set off. The town was good sized and neat looking. A sports car drove by. Nice. Not ten minutes later he had seen half a dozen of the most expensive cars drive by.   
  
Great, the Gold Coast of the 'burbs, he thought, loading a his cd player with Linkin Park again. It was starting to skip, and he needed a new one. No money meant no cd. He needed to make some money and quick. It wouldn't be so bad to sleep outside with it being all nice and warm, but what if it rained?  
  
Snow sighed again and strolled into what he thought was a park. He soon stumbled across a worn path that led further into the trees. He shrugged his shoulders and followed the path. At the end of it he came to a wall. He looked around to see if anyone was around and pushed himself off the ground with a small bolt of purple fire.  
  
Snow had never seen a bigger or more imposing sight, as this place. The house, okay, MANSION, had to be over five hundred feet in width and at least fifty feet tall! A nice garden ran the length of the rear of the place. Not too shabby.  
  
He was so intent on studying the house, he didn't hear the silent footsteps until they were nearly on him. He squawked and let go of his bolt. He stared at the man that growled low in his throat.  
  
Snow tried to run, but his feet wouldn't move! He was terrified. The man cam over to him and picked him up in his arms and slung him over his shoulder. And carted him over the wall and into the mansion!  
  
____________________________________  
  
This is my December  
  
These are my snow covered dreams  
  
This is me pretending  
  
This is all I need  
  
Logan had seen the little brat peeking over the wall as soon as his head had cleared it. He had jumped the wall and made his way silently toward him. How he could have heard him was anyone's guess, but when he had seen that purple fire lifting the boy, he thought it would be prudent that he take him to the professor.  
  
Logan jogged into the mansion and called for the professor with his mind to meet him in the study. Not too long later, Xavier glided into the room.  
  
"What is this, Logan?" Xavier asked pointing to the frightened child that had curled up in a chair.  
  
"Caught 'im peekin' over the south wall, Professor. I was gonna make him leave when I noticed that he was liftin hisself off the ground with this purple fire shootin from his hand," Logan told him.  
  
Xavier looked over the boy. He appeared to be only thirteen or fourteen. He was African-American by his skin tone, an almost coal black color. His eyes were a startling ice blue. His hat had been knocked askew and he noticed that his hair was snow white and straight. One of his ears looked pointed. Around his neck hung some headphones. He was wearing a hooded sweatshirt over extremely flared jeans. B-52's if he wasn't missing the mark. Living in a house of teenagers had some benefits.  
  
"I am sorry if we have scared you, young man, but what were you doing on the south wall?" Xavier asked the calming boy.  
  
"I was just looking, sir. Honest."  
  
"Fair enough. Now why don't you tell me your name?"  
  
He seemed to hesitate then blurted, "Nythanial Snow, sir."  
  
"Nythanial Snow. Why are you so far from home, Mr. Snow?" Xavier questioned the boy.  
  
"I have no home and no family. I'm an orphan," Snow told the man called Professor. He felt that he could trust him.  
  
"Interesting," Xavier rubbed his chin. "What is this purple power that came from your hands, Mr. Snow?"  
  
"I ain't sayin' until you answer me some questions," Snow told them.  
  
"Fair enough. Shoot."  
  
"Who are you and what are you? I sense something fishy going on around here."  
  
Xavier gave a half smile. At least he had some fire in him. He caught site of a half healed cut on his head.  
  
"I am Charles Xavier and this is one of my instructors, Logan. We are mutants, as are you, Mr. Snow. But please call me Professor," Xavier explained to the boy. "If you don't mind, what happened to your head?"  
  
"My head?"  
  
"Yes, that cut. It looks half healed and it will leave a nasty scar." Xavier watched the boy's eyes shadow and then shutter, as if trying to hide something painful. He caught a small glimpse of flying rocks and terrified screams.  
  
"It's nothing, Professor, and please call me Snow."  
  
"Anyway, this is my school."  
  
"School?"  
  
"Yes. Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters."  
  
"Nice."  
  
"Quite."  
  
"So are all the kids here mutants?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You and Logan too?"  
  
"Yes. But what I really want to know, is what kind of power you possess. I have yet to see something of this nature in any of my students."  
  
Snow sighed and nodded. "But do you have a place that's closed off and doesn't have anything that can be picked up and thrown around?"  
  
"Of course. Please follow me."  
  
Snow followed the professor and Logan to an elevator that opened on a huge metal sheathed hallway. They went to the left and asked him to stand still for a minute. A panel swung back and Logan entered and punched some buttons on a switchboard of some kind. The professor then asked for his backpack, cd player, and his hat.   
  
Snow grudgingly gave up his hat. His ear length white hair fell forward to cover his face partway. His ears were uncovered and in plain sight. He waited for the names to be thrown at him.  
  
Instead he heard, "Logan show our young Mr. Snow into the Danger Room."  
  
"Come on, kid," Logan growled.  
  
"Danger Room?"  
  
"Don't worry. The system has been temporarily shut down. It's safe to go in," Xavier explained to Snow.  
  
Snow giggled nervously and stepped up to the huge metal doors in front of him. Logan punched in some code and the door swung open. Snow stepped in and looked around. He didn't see anything that could even considered dangerous.   
  
"Kid, don't even think it. This room is deadly." With that Logan stepped out of the room and into the control room.  
  
"What do ya think, Professor?" Logan asked as he stood beside Xavier.  
  
"He's scared of us and he's hiding a really deep pain. Something made him run. Something to do with that cut..." he fell short in his reverie as Snow began to move.  
  
Snow moved to the center of the room and stopped. He made sure that nothing could be easliy moved, which was dumb, because the room was empty. He cleared his mind and concentrated on creating the necessary energy ball he wanted.   
  
Xavier held his breath as he watched. The boy closed his eyes and immediately his hair started to lift from around his face. His skin turned darker and his ears and hair lengthened. He opened his eyes and they were blood red. A purple haze started in the boys' palm and grew. It continued to grow until it touched the control room's observation windows. When it touched them, the energy ball zipped back into his hands. During the whole time, Snow had not moved and inch, but he had a small smile on his face.  
  
Xavier pulled the microphone towards him. "That was amazing, Voodoo!" he called to the boy.  
  
"Voodoo?"  
  
"Yes, I would like you to stay with me for a while so we can better understand your powers. I have never in all my years seen a power like yours or its affects to your body."  
  
Snow came out of the Danger Room and walked into the control room.  
  
"How old are you anyway, kid?" Logan asked.  
  
"I'm eighteen today," he answered stunned that he nearly forgot his own birthday.  
  
"Well happy birthday, Snow," Xavier smiled at him. "Would you consider staying here?"  
  
Snow smiled and felt the reassurance from Xavier and a grudging welcome from Logan.   
  
"I think I will for a while. I need to learn more about this myself," he said, then he frowned. "Professor, I need to tell you something."  
  
"What is it, Snow?" he asked wheeling out of the room and toward the elevator.  
  
"I ran away from home a few days ago. I...uhh...hurt some kids back there." Snow looked ashamed as he admitted this. "I don't know what came over me. They teased me all the time about my appearence. I asked them to leave me alone, and then they would laugh and chase me home. I have been in so many foster homes that I have lost count. I liked this place, until they started to notice me.  
  
"I was just walking home and they came after me," Snow told them, swallowing his fear. "I thought that they were just gonna tease me, but they started to yell at me and they ran at me. I walked a little faster. One of them hit me and I got scared, so I ran. Had to run a coupla miles before they caught me. Got me cornered at the river. They knew where I was gonna run and had sent some around to cut me off.  
  
"They threw rocks at me. I couldn't dodge all of them and one got me in the gut. I was just gonna run again when the leader, Darren Jones, the star football player, threw one at me and cut my head. I lost it. Hate and rage poured into me and I stood up. I said something to them but I can't remember what it was. I just know that I was smiling and laughing a lot.  
  
"My hair got a lot longer than what it usually did and my fingernails even grew! I resembled some dark elf come to life, you know, from one of those fantasy games. I remember rocks flying and screams. When I came out of it, they were all writhing in agony at the tiny, stinging cuts from the rocks. I ran away that night, scared outta my mind." Snow finished and took a sip from a glass that Logan handed him. He grimaced at the taste. Scotch. He hated scotch.  
  
"You have nothing to fear here at the Institute. Everyone here is a mutant," Xavier said, glaring at Logan for handing the boy liquor.  
  
"What? He needed it, Professor. He was as white as his hair."  
  
"I'll stay on here for a while, Professor, Logan. I need to learn to control this rage and I think I can only learn in relative safety here," Snow told the two men.  
  
"It's settled then," Xavier exclaimed and shook Snow's hand. "Welcome to the X-Men, Voodoo."  
  
________________________________________________________________  
  
And I  
  
Just wish that I didn't feel  
  
Like there was something I missed  
  
And I  
  
Take back all the things I said  
  
To make you feel like that  
  
And I  
  
Just wish that I didn't feel  
  
Like there was something I missed  
  
And I  
  
Take back all the things that I said to you  
  
And I'd give it all away  
  
Just to have somewhere to go to  
  
Give it all away  
  
To have someone to come home to  
  
This is my December  
  
This is my time of the year  
  
This is my December  
  
This is all so clear  
  
And I'd give it all away  
  
Just to have somewhere to go to  
  
Give it all away  
  
To have someone to come home to.  
  
Nythanial "Voodoo" Snow listened to the now severely scrathing cd for the last time. It had helped him come to grips with his life these last few weeks.  
  
Professor Xavier had given him a job at the Institute working with Mr. McCoy and Ororo Munroe. He was constantly exercising his powers so he could get more control of them. What was even more amazing, he didn't wear a hat anymore.   
  
Let them stare, I won't let them control me anymore, he thought. He had a family now. Somewhere to go and someone to come home to!  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
This was the most fun I have had writing since I started to write. That sounded so stupid. -_-;  
  
On the other hand, I like how this came out. I was sitting on the porch one night and I listened to Reanimation by Linkin Park. I fell in love with My December. I thought about the words and felt them. I decided that what I felt needed to be put into words only I didn't have the correct medium to put it in.  
  
And here enters the Song Fic. I have always been partial to the picked on kids in school. I was an outsider. *Big surprise*  
  
Anyway, I hope you liked this. I sure did! *falls over as her sugar high wears off* Ughh! Need....more....chocolate milk!  
  
Psy.Ops 


End file.
